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SERMON 

DELIVERED IN THE 

UNITARIAN CHURCH IN ARCHDALE STREET, 
CHARLESTON, S. C, 

Sunday, April 23, 1865. 
By REV. CHARLES LOWE, 

w 

OP MASSACHUSETTS. 



^ublisbfb bit l^equfst oi llje (JTangregation. 



BOSTON: 

AMERICAN UNITARIAN ASSOCIATION. 
1865. 



, Lq i 



boston: 

PRINTED BY JOHN WILSON AND SON, 

15, Watbb Stbeet. 



SERMON. 



"And it shall be, when they say unto thee, Wherefore sighest 
thou ? that thou shalt answer, For the tidings ; because it Com- 
eth : and every heart shall melt, and all hands shall be feeble, 
and every spirit shall faint, and all knees shall be weak as 
water." — EzEK. xxi. 7. 

There is but one topic upon which I can have 
the heart to speak to-day, or you the hearts to at- 
tend. We have moved about together, these last 
three days, bowed down with a common grief; and 
we seek this sanctuary that we may together find 
comfort and guidance in view of the awful trial 
which has fallen upon us. 

I find no language in which to express my sense 
of the appalling magnitude of the calamity which 
was told in the tidings which have shrouded the 
land with gloom. 

It is little to say, that the Chief Magistrate of 
the nation is no more ; for, momentous as such an 
event would be regarded under any circumstances, 
there is that, in the present condition of national 
afikirs, which makes the loss of the nation's leader 
and head such a calamity as our hearts can feel, 
but our tongues cannot express. I think that 
at no period of our history could the loss have 



seemed more deplorable. True, we have passed 
through more perilous and difficult times than 
these. President Lincoln has himself guided us 
through intricacies and dangers compared with 
whicli those of the present seem trifling. But 
that very fact makes us lament him more than we 
should have done at any time before; for every 
such proof of his wisdom and worth only secured 
for him a new measure of our confidence, till 
through all the land there was not a loyal heart 
that did not gratefully own his sway, and lean on 
him for direction in view of difficulties, which, 
though not the same in kind as those we have 
passed, are yet such as require steadiness of nerve 
and purity of principle and wisdom of counsel 
(such as we knew were his), else all that we have 
gained may yet be wrecked. 

It is as though the noble Ship of State, safely 
guided through storm and night, had come at last, 
with colors flying and with crew rejoicing, to the 
very entrance of the port, soon, safe within the 
haven, to find peace and rest. And yet she is first 
to be piloted over the bar ; and when, just as she 
is headed in, he on whose clear eye and firm hand 
they had relied for this service, as for every thing 
before, is smitten down, who can picture the con- 
sternation which takes the place of the rejoicing 
and the hope ? 

My friends, you who have dwelt here, shut out 
from intercourse with the North, and receiving 
only infrequent and usually distorted statements 
in regard to current events, can faintly understand 



the sentiment/in regard to Mr. Lincoln, which has 
gradually taken possession of the entire population 
of the Northern and Western States. He began 
with a very moderate degree of public confidence 
and regard. A large proportion of the most intelli- 
gent men in the loyal States had, at the time of his 
election, and for a considerable period afterward, 
a painful sense of distrust as to his fitness for the 
position to which he was called. Ill-wishers to the 
Union did every thing to increase this feeling of 
distrust, — distrust, I say, m his ability, — that was 
all. For, from the beginning to the end, the foul- 
est calumny and the bitterest hate, though they 
have tried with fiendish endeavor, have never 
found one word to utter against his purity of char- 
acter and his nobleness of heart. 

This distrust was slow to yield. Good things 
were done; but they were all attributed, on ac- 
count of this preconceived opinion of his ability, 
to the excellence of his advisers, while the evils 
and mistakes were all laid to him. 

No man ever worked his way to favor against a 
harder current of prejudice. Had he been laboring 
for popularity, it might perhaps have been sooner 
won. He might sooner have made it appear, that, 
when great rocks loomed up in our tempestuous 
course on which we were nearly wrecked, it was 
no chance, nor yet the wisdom of his advisers, but, 
under God, his steady hand and stout heart alone 
that took us safely by. But he thought not of him- 
self or fame, but of his country ; and thus it was 
only gradually, as, one by one, his decisions, his 



6 



acts, his words, smoothly adjusting perplexities by 
which we knew the highest statesmanship was 
baffled, grandly and unexpectedly disposing of diffi- 
culties that we had dreaded to encounter, — it was 
only, I say, as these acts and measures directed 
our minds to him, that we learned how, under that 
unpretending brow, reigned qualities that made 
him at length undisputed Lord of our affections 
and our respect ; till now, in all the territory which 
has owned his authority, he stands unmistakably 
by the side of Washington, in the hearts of his 
countrymen. 

And, brethren ! the time will come when this 
shall be the sentiment, not of one section only, but 
of all the land. Oh that those people of the South, 
who plotted his death, could only understand, as 
they will by and by, that in all the earth they have 
had no truer friend ! Through trials, such as we 
cannot realize, he has held steadfast their interests, 
even while resisting their assaults. No injuries 
they have ever inflicted on him or his Government 
have ever destroyed the kindness which he has felt 
for them. He has never been provoked to utter 
one word of malice or revenge, though man was 
never so provoked before. He was magnanimous 
(ordinary men would have said) to a fault, — only 
that his magnanimity was so coupled with firmness 
that it commanded respect ; and the Nation glo- 
ried in it, and imitated it themselves. Oh ! at this 
hour, when this last and greatest act of iniquity 
has inflamed the land, creating a horror of indig- 
nation such as even the firing on Sumter did not 



rouse, who is left to set the example of forbearance 
he would have shown ? Blind followers of the re- 
bellion (of whose will that assassin was only the 
implement), do they know what a blow they have 
inflicted on themselves? Noble, Christian man! 
his very last recorded words were of kindness to a 
conquered army and their chief, and of hope for 
a speedy peace. And if, after that fatal wound had 
been received, he could have roused for one mo- 
ment to consciousness, and his lips had had power 
to speak, who can doubt that his language would 
have been, forgetting all personal wrong, " Father, 
forgive them ; for they know not what they do ! " 

But all this reminds me that this is not the time 
for eulogy, however grateful to our feelings this 
would be ; and those same lips, if they could speak 
to-day, would say, ^' Do not pause to pay honors to 
me ; but turn to take up the work which I have 
dropped, and see to it that my death shall be, not a 
detriment, but a service, to the State." 

I turn, therefore, from words of mourning, to 
speak of the duties and the prospects which lie be- 
fore us as they are made more clear by this event. 
I shall speak plainly, and perhaps may say things 
unpleasant to some of you, though loyal men ; but I 
shall speak in kindness, and with respect. Nay, 
I remember, with respect also, many of those who 
once sat here, honored and loved ; who, exiles now, 
and following the fortunes of the cause they have 
chosen, would receive with denunciation what I 
say. God forbid that I should utter any thing that 
should seem to taunt them, or any thing in the 



spirit of revenge ! I do not feel it. I feel no ill- 
will or spirit of condemnation toward any person, 
simply because he is on the opposite side. I know 
the power of education, and of prejudice, and of 
example. I know the terrible contagion of opinion 
and purpose, when once an earnest sentiment 
takes possession of a community; and, when I 
think how every thing of social influence has com- 
bined to lead them as they have gone, I dare not 
boast to myself, that, if I had been similarly placed, 
I might not have been similarly misled. 

Conscious of this freedom from the spirit of ex- 
ultation or of animosity, let me speak on a few 
points in regard to your present duties and posi- 
tion. 

1. The one point which is the centre and basis 
of all the rest, as regards this community, is the 
necessity for and tlie absence of a real and uncom- 
promising loyalty. 

When I speak of the absence of such loyalty, let 
me not be misunderstood. I do not mean that it is 
utterly wanting. On the contrary, there are some 
(and among them this society has a proud list), 
who, " faithful found among the faithless," have 
proved their fidelity amid such trials, and under 
such sacrifices, that it puts to the blush the ordi- 
nary loyalty of us of the North who have never 
been tempted to swerve. But I need not say to 
you that the number of such loyal citizens is small ; 
and that, even among those who have remained 
within the Union lines, there is an amount of 
hatred to the Union which is very feebly disguised. 



9 

Many who, for the sake of the immunities which it 
affords, have taken the oath of allegiance, curse 
the Government which they have sworn to obey ; 
and no one would be credulous enough to suppose, 
that the oath would be valid with them any longer 
than they were kept to it by their interests or their 
fears. 

" But," it will be said, " must not some allow- 
ances be made to the infirmities of human nature ? 
Is it not too much to expect, that the hopes and the 
endeavors of four such years (however misguided 
they may have been), branded into the heart and 
the convictions by so many experiences, — is it not 
too much to expect, that they shall at once be 
rooted out, and leave no angry sore ? Can a man 
of spirit bear the consciousness of forced submis- 
sion, and show no trace of wounded pride ? There 
must be," it is argued, '^ allowance for all this, and 
concession to such an inevitable state of feeling." 

In reply to such an argument, I desire to set 
forth as clearly as I can the precise point which is 
to be observed, and an important distinction which 
both sides are to keep constantly in mind. 

All that may be said in plea for the necessity for 
concession to the natural feelings of disappoint- 
ment and alienation, I would recognize to the full. 
In all matters pertaining to the re-adjustment of 
things, it is right for the successful party to regard 
with tenderness and respect the opinions and 
habits of those for whom the turn of events has 
given them the power to legislate. Even where 
their own views of what is right are most con- 

1* 



10 



firmed, it may often be both Christian and wise to 
yield and wait until time shall so soften the feelings 
and weaken the power of old associations, that the 
changes may be wrought by common consent and 
co-operation ; whereas, if insisted on now, they 
would only embitter and annoy. In all this spirit 
of mutual concession and consideration, I trust and 
believe the North will go at least half-way ; and 
that the wise and generous spirit of President Lin- 
coln may still direct the national policy, and reign 
in the people's hearts. But there is a distinction 
which, on the other hand, the South must under- 
stand. There is one thing which is absolutely 
essential to the first beginning of peace; and that is 
unqualified suhmission and unreserved and itnliesi- 
tating allegiance, ivitJi a determined purpose heartily 
to abide hy it (for this mere sham of profession 
amounts to nothing), to the Constitution and Gov- 
ernment of the United States. It will be said, this 
very thing is the hardest of all, most galling to the 
sensibilities, and most needing time for the gradual 
subsiding of sectional pride. To be sure it is hard; 
and it is useless to try to smooth it by any words 
which it Avould be easy to utter, but which would 
only increase the feeling they might seek to allay. 
But, hard as it may be, it must be met, and must be 
accepted. The North cannot excuse them from it 
if it would, nor can it help much to ease it. With 
all its pain, it is as absolutely essential to the first 
birth of the new peace as to the woman is agony of 
labor when a child is born. 

Christ said to his disciples when he sent them 



11 

forth, '^ Into whatsoever house 3^e enter, first say. 
Peace be to this house. And if the Son of Peace 
he there, your peace shall rest upon it: if not, 
it shall turn to you again." He teaches, that even 
to those who go out from his very presence, and 
filled with his spirit of love, peace cannot be com- 
pelled until the answering conditions are found. 
No one who had mingled much with the people of 
this city previous to the news of the assassination, 
and caught the sentiment of those (outside the 
loyal few in this community), and measured thus 
the sentiment of the region round, could have 
helped the conviction, that '' the Son of Peace " was 
not there. No one but would have dreaded lest, 
if, through the intense longing for peace, a settle- 
ment should be attempted on such a foundation, 
we should soon be reminded of the prophet's words, 
where he says, — 

" They have seduced my people, saying, Peace, 
and there was no peace ; and one built up a wall, 
and, lo, others daubed it with untempered mortar. 
Say unto them which daub it with untempered 
mortar, that it shall fall : there shall be an over- 
flowing shower ; and ye, great hailstones ! shall 
fall, and a stormy wind shall rend it." 

I have purposely predicated what I said respect- 
ing this unfavorable condition of Southern senti- 
ment as applying to the time preceding the news of 
Mr. Lincoln's death. That event lias materially 
changed the aspect of affairs. Perhaps, it was that 
it roused a fear of the consequences, — in the in- 
creased stringency and austerity of the policy that 



12 



would be pursued ; perhaps it was that the hor- 
ror at the deed gave a thrill of indignation that 
was in sympathy with the Union side : but it mat- 
ters not what the motive may have been, — that 
event has done more to hasten the true conditions 
of peace, than would have been done by months of 
ordinary endeavor. The day on which the dread- 
ful news arrived will be for this city a memorable 
day. It was the nineteenth of April, — the anni- 
versary of the battle of Lexington and Concord, in 
1775 ; and of the shedding of blood in the streets of 
Baltimore, in 1861. That morning, I sat in a feel- 
ing of disappointment at something that had just 
occurred to illustrate the lack of cordial loyalty in 
the South ; and, as I recalled the date, I wondered 
if, this year, it would be marked by any event. 
Even as I pondered, the boat was steaming up the 
harbor with the intelligence that was to burst over 
the city with a cloud that should mantle all in 
gloom. 

Who shall picture the despondency of that day ? 
as one said to another in your streets, '^ Ruin ! 
ruin ! all hope of reconciliation is gone ! " Ah ! but 
in these things God is greater than our fears, and 
out of this awful cloud came presently a gleam of 
light. No sooner was the first shock over, than it 
began to be felt that now the hour for decision had 
come. That very day, in this church, — which 
hereafter will be proud in claiming the honor of 
being the first to take a stand, — resolutions were 
pj,ssed (the first since the occupation of this city), 
promising fidelity and service to the Union. The 



13 

day, like those of which it was the anniversary, 
was a day of gloom ; but in its results it will be 
glorious, like them. On the dark 19th of April, in 
1775, liberty was born. In 1861, resistance to trea- 
son was secured, and the continuance of the 
Union assured; in 1865, disunion was buried in 
the grave of Abraham Lincoln. 

Who can say, when we consider this effect of the 
tidings of that day,— who can say but that God's 
wisdom saw that he whose life seemed to us neces- 
sary to our service, could serve us better by his 
death? 

But, even now, all is not done ; and I must speak 
to you, who stand in the fore-fi'ont of Southern 
loyalty, in regard to the great duties and responsi- 
bilities which now rest upon you. 

The mass of the Southern people are not even 
yet brought to the point which is the necessary 
preliminary of peace. There is still a holding-back, 
— not in most cases persistent and violent, but 
such as is natural enough from the difficulty that 
grows out of the conflict of feeling which it is not 
necessary to describe. Now, if once a strong and 
influential movement is inaugurated in the right 
direction, it may soon create a current of popular 
feeling, on which the hesitating may be borne along 
to safety and peace ; just as, by the same power, 
four years ago, they were carried, through the con- 
tagion of sympathy and enthusiasm, into danger 
and wrong. 

Rarely have men been placed in circumstances 
more responsible and more enviable for power of 



14 

usefulness than you, hysl citizens of Charleston, 
are to-day. You are, on one hand, aglow with love 
of the Union, strengthened by years of longing 
and suffering ; and yet, on the other, you have a 
h«bld upon your fellow-citizens, such as can only be 
acquired by years of intercourse and sympathy, 
and community of interests. It is for you at this 
hour to lead back your State. 

I am aware, there are certain imagined difficul- 
ties Avhich suggest themselves to your minds, in 
regard to which a few words may be said ; e.g. : — 

1. I have heard many urge this, that there are 
now no recognized leaders, — that the accustomed 
guides of public sentiment either have passed 
awa}^, or still continue in sympathy with the cause 
of rebellion, and there are none to take their place. 
Friends, let all history teach you, that emergencies 
make men, if they do not find them. There may be 
among you those whose powers have never been 
called out, and perhaps are not suspected by the 
community or by themselves, who are to be the 
great men of your future, and perhaps equal to 
your great men of the past. At any rate, for lead- 
ership in this particular thing, a true heart, an 
honest conviction, an earnest sentiment, a sound 
judgment, and a character to command respect, are 
worth more than any political experience and repu- 
tation, or any powers of debate. 

May God touch you, and such as you, with a 
sense of the opportunity, and then leaders will not 
lack ! 

2. Another cause of discouragement is the sup- 



15 



posed difSculty, if not hopelessness, of ever restor- 
ing the kindly feelings on the part of those who 
have been so long and so bitterly estranged. Many 
believe that these feelings can never be restored. 
Look, they say, at the facts. The war, regarded 
from a military point of view, is nearly over ; and 
yet you find a degree of rancor and bitterness 
and animosity, which is as great as when the war 
began. What hope is there, they say, of that har- 
mony of feeling that will ever make the people of 
both sections brothers again ? This difficulty de- 
serves to be especially considered ; for it has been 
the occasion for despondency with many, North as 
well as South. In answer to it, I might refer to his- 
tory, and show how true sympathy between hostile 
sections has more than once succeeded to the bit- 
terest civil feuds. But I would rather answer it 
by reference to the nature of things. From the ne- 
cessity of the case, intercourse, both civil and com- 
mercial, must he restored. In these days of railroads 
and telegraphs, when distance is annihilated, con- 
tact between the two sections is inevitable ; and it is 
equally inevitable, that personal relationships of 
business and interest must be formed. Before 
such influences, old animosities must melt. Then, 
again, by the very intensity of the conflict, we have 
been made at least to respect each other's bravery 
as never before ; and this feeling of respect is such 
a bond that you find now the quickest signs of 
friendliness are among the bitterest antagonists. 
It did not take long to form friendships between 
the soldiers of Grant and Lee. Then, as we sail 



16 



out into the future, there are to be new experi- 
ences in which we are to share, — trials in which 
we are to stand side by side, — glories which shall 
belong to both. The country is to be ours together; 
its emblems, our common pride ; its history, our 
common possession. 

Of this approaching union we find the first har- 
binger in the event which we commemorate to-day. 
Six months ago, an observer would have said, that 
if there was one point in which was embodied, as 
it were, the spirit of our dissensions, it was the 
hate on the one side, and the afiection on the other, 
toward him who presided over our national affairs ; 
and yet the first thing in which the sympathies of 
our once-more-to-be-united people have joined is in 
the common sorrow which seems to prevail, South 
as well as North, over the grave of Abraham Lin- 
coln. 

But what if the indication of such unanimity of 
feeling be, as yet, slight and uncertain ? Let this 
not lead us to despond. Go out with me into your 
gardens, and look at one of your fig-trees, now 
loaded with its early fruit. All the spring, you 
have been watching it, and giving it your constant 
care. You saw the bud when the first warm days 
developed it, and you rejoiced when the blight did 
not prevent it from bursting into bloom. You saw 
it swell into fruit ; and you dug about the tree, and 
secured it from drought, and the fruit has expanded, 
and fills you with promise as it increases day by 
day ; and yet, even a few weeks hence, when it has 
attained its size, and is nearly ready to be plucked. 



17 

if one should taste it he would find it harsh and 
puckery, and would throw it from him in disgust. 
What if we should say, '^ Ah ! that is for your pains. 
You have waited all these weeks ; and rains have 
watere'd, and suns have shone, and you have 
digged ; and now, when, by all calculation, the 
fruit should at least show signs of ripeness, if it is 
ever to be good, it has no more the flavor of a fig 
than had that first blossom in the spring." You 
would answer, " Wait, my friend, but a single day, 
till one more sun shall have quickened and mel- 
lowed it, and till that subtle chemistry shall have 
acted on its juices and softened its pulp, and I will 
pluck it, and you will declare, as you bite its lus- 
cious sides, that its taste is worthy of the gods." 
Well, so it is with the fruit of a great contest for 
principle and right like this, in which our hearts 
are bound. Four long years it has been watered 
by a nation's blood and tears. It has been shone 
on by the generous favor of a people's heart ; it 
has been digged about and tilled by a costly ser- 
vice of toil and care. You say, that now, when it 
ought to be nearly ripe, there are still no signs of 
sweetness in it, but only bitterness and rancor. 
I tell you, that it is no more a miracle to expect 
that all the mutual hate and sourness of spirit that 
now divides our hostile sections, and all those hin- 
drances which now seem so strong, shall, when the 
hour comes, melt and mellow into the realization of 
a true peace and Union, such as the most sanguine 
can predict, than it is that the hard juices of your 
fig shall; in one day, after months of sourness, 



1:8 



change into the richness and sweetness that is one 
of the marvels of the year. 

But I have detained you too long. I have 
omitted to speak of other questions, which, though 
diflScult and trying, are of vital importance, and 
must be met. I have omitted to speak of them, 
because this one matter of loyalty is so. at the basis 
of every thing, that, for the hour, it supersedes all 
the rest. 

Pardon me if, because I am addressing a South- 
ern audience, I have dwelt chiefly upon the duties 
of the South. It is not that I do not recognize the 
same necessity for the conquering of prejudice, 
for the spirit of reconciliation, for the willingness 
to forget the past, and to work together for the 
future, on the part of the North as well ; and 
whichever side has been most grievously wronged, 
has now the most favored lot, for it has the most 
to forgive. 

And now, one word more in conclusion respect- 
ing him whom we meet to deplore. He stands 
before us, and will so stand in history, as the 
Moses of this Israel of ours. The medium and 
the willing instrument of God, he has led us 
through the wanderings of the wilderness for four 
long years. " Meek," but, like his great proto- 
type, not with the meekness of imbecility, but 
of reliance on a power that was not his own; 
yearning, like him, for the deliverance of the peo- 
ple he was appointed to lead ; standing firm in his 
purpose when they, in moments of discouragement, 
sighed after the flesh-pots they had left behind, — 



19 

the parallel became complete when, at last, after 
the final act of the struggle was consummated, and 
after, in the rebel capital (the goal of his efforts), 
he was able to declare the rebellion substantially 
at an end, and the wanderings over ; '^ with his eye 
not dim, nor his natural force abated," he was called 
to die. It was like Moses upon Mount Nebo, where 
he was permitted to see, but not himself to enter, 
the Promised Land. 

But to the people it is given to enter in, rejoic- 
ing after their weary wanderings, and without one 
lost tribe. The promised land of peace and Union, 
and freedom for all, and prosperity restored. Be 
not cast down. The fig-tree shall blossom again, 
and fruit shall be in the vines ; the labor of the 
olive shall revive, and the fields shall yield their 
meat ; and, all together, we will '' rejoice in the 
Lord, and will joy in the God of our salvation." 



20 



PROCEEDINGS 



MEETING HELD IN THE UNITARIAN CHURCH IN 
CHARLESTON, S.C, APRIL 19, 1865. 



The following account of a meeting held in the 
Unitarian Church, in Charleston, is taken from 
the " Charleston Courier," of April 20 : — 

In response to a call through the paper of the 19 th 
inst., inviting all Unitarians in the city to meet at the 
Unitarian Church, in Archdale Street, at five o'clock, p.m., 
a respectable number of both sexes were in attendance ; 
when, by motion of Dr. A. G. Mackey, Dr. James 
Moultrie was called to the chair, and Mr. David Har- 
row requested to act as secretary. 

Rev. Calvin Stebbins opened the meeting with a 
most eloquent and impressive prayer ; after which, Mr. 
Barrow rose, and said, that, before proceeding to the 
discharge of the duties of secretary, he would state the 
object of the meeting, by saying, that, " during the past 
week, we had a very large and interesting visitation from 
our Northern friends ; and among them, two reverend 
gentlemen of our own household of faith, who had come 
among us as strangers, having been sent as missionaries 
by the Unitarian Society of Boston, to look for a field 



21 



wherein to plant the standard of true faith, around which 
all of us could rally, and have once more our own pure 
and unadulterated Unitarian faith inculcated. They are 
young, strong, and zealous in the work assigned them ; 
earnest in the wish and hope to be useful ; true to the 
faith of their adoption. Let us receive them as brothers 
in our own faith and church ; let us welcome them in all 
kindness ; let us unite with them, heart and hand, in 
all the good work they and we can find to do in the broad 
field before us. Here they are : the Rev. Mr. Charles 
Lowe, of Boston, and the Rev. Calvin Stebbins, of Cam- 
bridge, — receive them as brothers in the faith." 

Here the Rev. Mr. Charles Lowe, of Boston [Somer- 
ville], rose, and said : — 

" Mr. Chairman, — The welcome which has been asked 
for us by my respected friend has already been accorded 
to us. We came as strangers, and have already experi- 
enced, at the hands of the few who represent this society, 
that generous hospitality and that courtesy for which this 
city, and especially this church, has long been known. 
Would that the few who greet us were the many who 
once filled these pews ! 

" We have come, as has been explained, in order to 
extend to the Unitarians of this city, on behalf of the 
American Unitarian Association, such aid as they may 
need, and as we can give. The purpose of this meeting 
was to deliberate upon the course it may be proper to 
adopt ; but the intelligence which has reached us within 
a few hours must have unfitted us for every thing but the 
utterance of our grief. Under the shadow of such an 
event as this, it is fitting that all business, even the most 
sacred, should be put aside ; and I have ventured to 
embody, in the form of resolutions, some expression of 



22 



feeling, which, with your leave, I will offer to the meet- 
ing. I propose these resolutions with no desire to con- 
trol the action of the meeting, but simply because, feeling 
as I do, I can do nothing else : — 

" Whereas this meeting of Unitarians was called for the pur- 
pose of consulting in regard to the re-establishment of worship for 
those who belong to our liberal faith ; and whereas, since the call 
was issued, our hearts have been overwhelmed by the intelligence 
of the appalling calamity that has come upon us and the nation, in 
the death, by the hand of an assassin, of our beloved and trusted 
Chief Magistrate, the President of the United States; therefore, — 

" Resolved, That before this great dispensation we bow in awe, 
but with undiminished faith in the providence of God, 

" Resolved, That, full of the solemnity with which this event has 
oppressed us all, we here dedicate ourselves anew to unswerving 
fideUty to the interests of the Union ; that we feel a deeper sense 
of the madness of those who, after all hope of succeeding must 
have passed, would still continue efforts that could only lead to 
further shedding of blood, and a postponement of peace. 

"Resolved, That we will do all in our power to hasten the re- 
establishment of peace, on the one only basis of a hearty allegiance 
to the Constitution and the authorities of the United States. And 
we raise our prayers to Almighty God to help us in these our 
endeavors. 

"Resolved, That, in deference to this event, the business which 
brought us together be postponed, and that this meeting do now 
adjourn." 

Dr. A. G. Macket seconded the resolutions with the 
following remarks : — 

" I rise to second these resolutions, Mr. Chairman, 
with a profound emotion of grief. The magnitude of the 
calamity that has befallen the nation, and the suddenness 
of the blow with which we have been stricken, fall upon 
us with an appalling force which paralyzes the heart as 
well as the tongue. We are hardly yet able to feel our 



23 



grief; we dare not venture to give utterance to it. For 
the first time since the organization of our government, 
the Chief Magistrate of the United States has been basely- 
slain by the weapon of a cowardly and traitorous assas- 
sin. It has always been the boast of Americans, that, 
unlike the monarchs of Europe, their President needed 
no protecting guard of soldiers to defend him from the 
attack of the traitor or the rebel. The guards of an 
American President were found in the honor and the 
affection of the people, and in the freedom and equality 
of our political institutions. But the bitter and shameful 
disgrace has come at last upon us in these already too 
troublous days ; and secession, developing itself, and 
culminating in this murderous act of one or perhaps 
more of its disciples, has shown that treason may be as 
rampant in a republic as in a despotism. 

" Abraham Lincoln, the man of the age, whose skill 
and energy and wisdom had triumphantly conducted this 
war, as his clemency and generosity and kindliness of 
heart were inaugurating a peace on terms which treason 
had no right to claim, and which magnanimity alone 
could offer, has fallen, — the true friend of the South has 
perished by the polluted hand of a degenerate son of the 
South. But, sir, I pause. Indignation for the great 
crime that has been committed, and the great wrong that 
has been done, tempts me to the utterance of language 
unfitting to this sacred place, where nothing but Chris- 
tian love and mercy should find an echo. 

*' But this is no time, and we are in no mood, for busi- 
ness. The children who assemble around the grave of 
their departed father give themselves only to grief. Let 
us imitate their examples ; and here, on this day, whose 
sun had burst upon us with genial rays of joy and hope, 



24 



but which is about to set in gloom and despair, let us 
divest ourselves of all thought of other avocations, and 
retire to our homes to bewail the good, the wise, the 
brave man, who has fallen a martjrr to his duty and his 
patriotism, and humbly to beseech our heavenly Father 
to withdraw from our beloved land the evil which now 
hangs over it like a dark, funeral pall." 

The meeting was then adjourned, to meet at the church 
at five o'clock on Friday afternoon. 



Mmil^ of ^wsiircnt Wincaln: 



SERMON 



DELIVERED IN THE 



UNITARIAN CHURCH IN ARCHDALE STREET, 



CHARLESTON, S. C, 



Sunday, April 23, 1865. 



By rev. CHARLES LOWE, 

OF MASSACHUSETTS. 



|!ublisbcb bu JUqucst of tbc Congrcgatioit. 



BOSTON: 
AMERICAN UNITARIAN ASSOCIATION. 

1865. 



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